


All we need is us

by lydiastxles



Series: Unfinished Business [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Lydia is in such denial, Near Future, Post-Canon, Romance, Sick Lydia Martin, Sickfic, Stiles takes good care of his girlfriend, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 05:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiastxles/pseuds/lydiastxles
Summary: Lydia's in charge of Valentine's Day this year and she's determined to make it special.Too bad her plan doesn't work out.





	All we need is us

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my remaining stydia lovers!
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day to all of you who celebrate this date today. If you don't, happy Wednesday!
> 
> For the first time ever (except on Christmas), I got to do a fic holiday related and I'm thrilled about it. This one was so fun to write and, as always, I used and abused all the fluff I got. 
> 
> Big thanks to Farah (@slowburnotptrash) for reading ahead and making me feel confident about it to post it and to Sabrina (@stilesssolo) for, once again, betaing this and being literally the nicest cupcake in the universe. I hope you get your cookies soon, honey.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this and don't be shy and let me know what you think!

Lydia has a plan. 

It’s Valentine’s day. Stiles is coming over to be with her for the weekend and she has a _fucking plan._  

She’s going to kill her co-worker for ruining everything. 

When it comes to celebrating their relationship, Stiles doesn’t hold back. He’s usually the one in charge of planning it, mostly because Lydia is completely busy with her work and classes, and since Stiles is part of a training group before being able to actually work in the FBI, he's more capable of pulling the whole thing off than she is. But even if that wasn’t the case, he’d still be the one doing it. Stiles is also the one who loves celebrating their anniversaries and special occasions, Valentine’s day especially, so whenever he has the chance to plan it, he gladly takes it. 

Lydia loves Stiles with all her heart. He’s the person she loves most in the whole world, he truly is. But she can’t stand Valentine’s Day to save her life. 

It’s nothing that he did. For that matter, he’s the one who makes the holiday bearable, with the amazing demonstration of how much he loves her and how he goes out of his way to make her feel more special than she already feels every day. 

But the over-commercialization, the one hundred and one movies and commercials made for that one day, the way everyone made an extravagant effort to show off on social media, and how gifts were the most important part of it all makes her go insane. She hates how everyone thinks this day is the one day to treasure your partner, meanwhile ignoring and not respecting them for the other 364 days of the year. 

For Lydia, Valentine’s Day is the most stressful day of the year. 

That was mainly why Stiles is the one who does all the planning. He knows exactly how Lydia feels about the day and he always makes something they can enjoy alone, without gifts, flowers or overpriced restaurants, planning it in a way that will avoid all that, and they’d still enjoy it. 

But this year, he’s spending a few weeks away from Boston on one of the many training missions the FBI planned for the new recruits, and she knows he won’t have any time at all to come up with something for the upcoming holiday. So she steps in, telling him not to worry because _she’s got this._  

Except she doesn’t. At all. 

Lydia has absolutely no idea how Stiles does something different every year. Or how he does anything at all. If it was up to her, they’d spend the day in bed eating pizza and drinking beer while watching a cooking show or any reality show she and Stiles were way too invested in. 

She spends about three hours staring at the multiple options the internet gives her, thinking every single one of them is a new level of cliché that makes her cringe for ages. She also tries to ask her co-workers for some ideas, but they’re absolutely useless. Romantic walks by the park, romantic dinners at the finest bistro, romantic dancing lessons, romantic _this_ and romantic  _that_ and it doesn’t take long for her to get a headache. 

So she calls Scott. If there’s someone who can help her with this it’s their best friend. But her alpha is out of ideas as well, because he can’t find a single thing they can do that hasn’t been already done, or that they’ll even  _enjoy,_ given Lydia’s strong opinions on the matter. 

“Well, what are you and Kira going to do?” she asks when he apologizes for the third time for not being able to help. 

“I got permission to use the school’s lacrosse field to have a picnic at night and then watch a movie on a projector Liam helped me set up.” He clears his throat. “He and Mason are going to put up some lights around it to give more of a romantic mood.” 

“You have no idea how much I want to hang up on your face right now.” She hears his laugh and smiles, closing her eyes and thinking about Stiles. It’s been a while since they saw Scott and Lydia catches herself considering, as a Valentine’s Day gift, flying both of them to Beacon Hills. But that idea is completely impractical, so she gives up with a quiet sigh. “She’s going to love it.”

 “I hope so… Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, though.”

 “That’s okay.” She sighs. “I have an IQ of 170, I’ll figure something out.” 

It takes her another week to finally figure out something special the couple could do. It’s not actually her idea — one of her co-workers mentions the favorite thing her husband surprised her with on Valentine’s day was a re-creation of their first date, before going on a rant about why having kids made things harder for them, and making Lydia doze off at that conversation. She thinks hard about what their first date was. She knows what they did when they first started dating, but their relationship was never simple like that. Even during the part of getting to know each other when the whole supernatural thing started, they were more than just acquaintances. 

He was more than a pack member. More than a friend. He was always  _more_ and she still can’t believe it took her so long to figure that out. 

So what _was_ their first date? she wonders. What was the first time they somehow connected, that made Sophomore Lydia wonder for a moment what it would be like to be treated with respect? 

And then it clicks.

She has a plan.

 

He calls her the day before he’s supposed to fly to Boston. They never care about the time one would call the other; their schedules are so different, and even when they have a pretty rough day, they make sure to talk whenever they get home just to hear each other’s voice. It takes four rings for Lydia to look away from her computer and realize the insistent noise is coming  from her phone. 

“Hey,” she answers tiredly. It’s after midnight and her body is so tired; all she wants to do is finish her work and go to bed. 

“Wow, that is the least excited way you’ve greeted me since middle school.” She laughs slightly, closing her eyes for a second. “Are you still working on your presentation? I already told you it was amazing and you’d definitely get the grant you deserve. Trust me.” 

“I trust you, but I also know that somehow that asshole Mark will have a better chance than me if this presentation isn’t slightly better than his.” Her head is starting to ache, so she takes a deep breath. “Stupid all-male panel.” 

“I’m sorry, babe.” He isn’t at any fault, for what it’s worth, but hearing him say I’m sorry makes her feel a little bit better. “Do you want me to call one of my buddies and, you know, kidnap him for a day or two?” 

“I can handle myself,” she answers with a smile. “But… Let’s not throw the option away just yet. That guy deserves being kidnapped and tortured by the FBI.”

“I never said torture,” he points out.

“You didn’t have to, it was implied.”

“Sure it was.” They stay in silence for a few moments, just hearing each other’s breaths. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too,” she agrees, resting her head on the couch arm, eyes still closed. “I need to give it to you when it comes to Valentine’s day, Stiles. It’s _so hard._ I have no idea how you pull it off every year. _”_

“Scott said you called. To be fair, I know I always kill it on Valentine’s Day, but I don’t know how he gets sappier each year.” They laugh. “You know you didn’t have to do anything at all this year, right? I know how much you hate this day.”

She doesn’t answer for a while because she knows exactly why she hates this holiday, but she’s not a hundred percent sure if Stiles knows. She suspects he has an idea why, because he was always observant of her growing up and noticed her when no one else did, not to mention how well he knows her. She wonders if she should ask if he _really_ knows, but Lydia doesn’t want to bring the subject up over the phone a day before Valentine’s day and before she sees Stiles, so all she does is clear her throat.

“You’re going to love what I planned. It’s rated 8 on the Scott McCall level of  cheesy plans for Valentine’s Day.”

 _“Eight?_ Wow. I guess a flash mob is too obvious for you but if it’s not, I swear I’ll act as surprised as I can.” Lydia’s headache is getting stronger and her body is starting to feel heavier, and she knows she has to get some sleep or else she won’t be up when Stiles arrives. “But seriously. Thank you for doing it.”

“You do this every year. It’s hard and exhausting and so annoying to hear everyone asking you what we’re going to do and you still do a great job at it.” Lydia smiles and wishes he was right in front of her so she could touch his face and look into those soft hazel eyes she loves so much. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

 

She wakes up the next day with a hand on her head, stroking her hair gently. It’s a nice sensation, but she can’t enjoy it for long when she feels her body aching for no reason at all. Everything hurts— her breathing movement makes her back hurt like she’s been sore and her head is throbbing before she even can open her eyes.

But she ignores it, choosing to focus on the hand in her hair. She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know who it is, that feeling way too familiar, and Lydia could never mistake those hands that have held hers so many times.

When she opens her eyes, she feels like she’s been hit by a truck. Her eyes feel heavy and it hurts to see the light around the poorly lit room. Stiles’ face is close to hers and she can feel his hot breath on her cheek. He’s smiling at her and, for a second, she feels like she’s not feeling any pain.

“Hi,” he says softly. It’s been over two weeks since he’s left and him being the first thing she sees is the best way to wake up in the morning. “Did you work until five a.m. again or just couldn’t sleep because I was coming over today?”

“You’re the one who arrived early,” she answers, and she’s surprised when her voice comes out hoarse. Lydia clears her throat before speaking again, but it doesn’t change that much. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one p.m. I’m here at exactly the time I told you I’d be.” He frowns and touches her forehead. “Are you okay? You’re warm.”

“I’m fine. I guess I slept later than I thought.” She knows the exact time she went to bed and she has no memory of getting up or waking up in the middle of the night, so there’s no logical reason why she should be this tired and in so much pain. As soon as she sits on her bed, everything in front of her gets blurred, and she leans on the wall behind her until it goes away. The pain in her head seems to get stronger the more she moves.

“Okay, you’re clearly not fine.” His hands are on her shoulders and he’s more worried than before. “What’s happening? Are you having a banshee moment or are you sick?”

 _“I’m not sick,”_ she stresses, sending him a pointed look. Sick. As if. “And I’m not having a banshee thing, I’m just tired and have a headache. I just need a hot shower and aspirin and I’ll be as good as new.”

“Or you’re _sick_ .” Stiles sits on the bed next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder and bringing her close. She opens her mouth to contradict him, but he’s faster. “Yes, I know, you haven’t gotten sick since you were six, and having your tonsils removed when you were eleven doesn’t count at all, but right now, right this second, _you are_.”

“That’s impossible. I don’t get sick and no one around me is showing any type of symptoms, so there’s no way I could get any virus.” He looks at her with his brows raised. “What?”

“Well... You do work with a lot of successful people of different ages and different families. Some are single, some are newlywed, _some have children_ …”  

Nancy. Her coworker who gave her the idea of recreating their first date. Her kids were always sick but she never missed a day of work, even when she was feeling under the weather. She was going to kill her.

“I refuse to be sick today. Or ever, for that matter.” She looks at him with determination. “We’re going to have the stupid Valentine’s Day I planned and you are going to love it.”

“Or we can stay here all day, cuddling in bed, watching The Notebook, eating soup and me still loving it.”

 _“No.”_ Her throat is so dry that she has to take a second before continuing talking. “I’m fine and I have a plan.”

“Lydia, so far, when has a plan we came up with ever worked exactly the way we wanted it to?” She doesn’t answer because as much as she hates to admit, for being the brain of their pack, their plans always need multiple backups for when the first one inevitably fails. “Exactly. I won’t go anywhere with you like that. We’re going with my plan. We can call it _Valentine’s Day: sick edition.”_

She glares at him.

“I will kill you.”

“That’s totally fine with me as long as you are feeling a little bit better.” He kisses her forehead. “Right now, for example, you have a fever. So let’s treat that before you murder me, ‘kay?”

  
Does Lydia felt guilty for being sick on Valentine’s Day and having Stiles take care of her, knowing he was exhausted because of the trip and his work on the other side of the country? Yes.

Does Lydia’s heart not tighten seeing Stiles taking such good care of her with the exact same dedication he did after she left Eichen? No.

He manages to handle her fever and keep it stable, even though it’s still a little high, but the rest of her body just gives up from pain, exhaustion and weakness. Lydia hates feeling so powerless like this and the memory of her being paralyzed in Eichen is so strong she has to fight the tears from coming out of her eyes and Stiles noticing. Even five years later and almost three thousand miles away from Beacon Hills, she can still feel Valack’s voice in her mind as he drilled into her skull.

But even now, with the terrifying thought that he could do it again, even though he was dead, Stiles being there makes her feel safe. Just from the way he looks at her with those warm eyes full of love, she knows nothing bad can happen to her.

“Okay, the fever is down, I set up the humidifier, I got all the medicine I could find in your bathroom, which is basically none because you’re the only human being who doesn’t think you’ll ever get sick so you don’t buy anything, and I wanted to make soup but you don’t have anything in your fridge.” He frowns. “Should I be concerned about your eating habits when I’m not here?”

“Would you rather I cooked something instead?” she mumbles, eyes closed. “I eat mostly at work and when I get home I order something in.”

“I’m going to see if your neighbors might help me out with food. Are you feeling any better?”

“I already told you I’m perfectly fine,” she lies. “I’m just in bed to humor you, not because I’m anywhere near sick.”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes before leaving the room.

After he leaves, she must nap, since the next thing she’s aware of is Stiles shaking her slightly, waking her up again, but, this time, there’s a bowl of soup next to him smelling delicious and that’s when she realizes how hungry she is.

He helps her sit down on her bed and sets the tray in her lap before putting the hot food on top of it for her to eat. They don’t talk that much while she’s eating, but she tells him how that chicken soup is delicious and how she can feel a little bit stronger than before.

Stiles helps her bathe after that. She’s been sweating a good deal for the past hour which means her fever has been going down and soon enough she’ll start to feel a little better. Even though she doesn’t admit her sickness, Lydia must admit that having Stiles right next to her, helping her feel better and taking care of her, is comforting, to say the least. Since he’s been gone for his FBI training, it feels like they’re still in college, having a long distance relationship and missing each other tremendously.

It’s not his fault, she knows that. If he could choose, his training would be five minutes away from her and they’d still share an apartment like they had for the past year. It’s the same for her. If it wasn’t for her work, she’d follow him anywhere he went. But life has other plans, and the only thing they can do is to make the best out of an inconvenient situation.

They decide to stay in the living room instead of her bedroom for the rest of the day. She lays on her couch with a blanket on top of her as Stiles sets up the humidifier next to her, and he’s ready to go back to her bedroom to change the sweaty sheets on her bed, but she stops him, holding his hand firmly, making her look at her.

“You don’t need to do that. Stay here with me.”

He lays behind her, pulling an arm around her waist and bringing her closer to the warmth of his body. Her head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck where she’s able to smell his favorite cologne that she secretly bought for herself for whenever she misses him too much.

“I’m really sorry for ruining today,” she mumbles without looking at him. “It was supposed to be special and Nancy’s stupid kids messed it up.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Lyds.” Stiles holds her face, stroking her cheek gently. “I didn’t come here for a big surprise where you’d fly us out in a balloon to see the city or to reenact the _‘Jack, I’m flying’_ scene in Titanic.” She laughs slightly before coughing. “I came here to spend time with my stubborn girlfriend who won’t admit she’s _sick_.”

“It’s just that… You always do Valentine’s Day so well and the first time I try to pull it off, _this_ happens.”

“What were you going to do?” he asks, curiously. “Did I get close with the flash mob, balloon ride or the Titanic thing?”

 _“No,”_ she answers, rolling her eyes. “Nancy told me that her husband once planned for them to relive their first date. It was something about going to a horrible pizza place and then their car broke in the middle of nowhere and the only thing that worked was the car’s radio, so he turned it on and asked her to dance right there.”

“That’s some Scott McCall level of romance, right there,” he jokes.

“Right? I liked the idea so I started to think what was our first date. Yes, you borrowed Derek’s loft and we had a nice dinner, but that wasn’t our very first date,” she says when he raises a brow. “The first thing that came to my mind was the dance we went to together, but that doesn’t count because I was horrible to you and I ditched you to look for Jackson.”

“Plus, you didn’t really want to be there with me.”

“Yeah. But then I remembered when we went to the ice rink with Allison and Scott. I had a good time and you kept looking at me like I was Michelle Kwan or something. So I talked to some people and closed an ice rink for us for a couple of hours.”

He smiles down at her and his face softens at her words. Lydia tries to look away from his penetrating gaze but she can’t. He always looks at her with such intensity, but this time is different. He doesn’t know what to say, which is saying a lot, and that makes Lydia’s heart skip a beat because having those warm whiskey eyes looking into her soul is something she never wants to stop.

With his hands still on her cheek, Stiles brushes her face softly, before closing the space between them with a kiss. It doesn’t last long, once Lydia moves away from him, raising her brows.

“You’re going to get sick too,” she says, ignoring the smirk on his face for finally admitting she’s sick.

“I don’t care,” he mumbles before kissing her one more time.

 

Three days later, when Stiles is the one who can't get out of bed, Lydia doesn't tell him she told him so. She doesn't give him a pointed look or make a sarcastic remark.

She just gives him a loving look and tells him she loves him too.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this!
> 
> I'm @lydiastxles on tumblr and you can always come talk to me :)


End file.
